Retribution: Meri Yanamari

The Parade

It almost hides the horrible truth about me. Meri thinks as she fidgets with the heavy brocade of her outfit's bodice. It's a smoky, shimmering black that fades down into grey and the brilliant hues of fire. Despite the seeming heaviness of it, Meri can still move easily. It's almost unbelievable, but the dress flows like liquid quicksilver over her hips and slender arms.

Gazing into the mirror, she struggles not to cry. This almost hides the painful thinness of years being starved into submission. It almost makes up for the bruises smattering her hidden back and stomach.

Meri's throat tightens as she spins. The full circle of the lower skirt spins out in a flowing arc. The sequins and brilliant reds, golds, and blues of the flames flash in the mirror beneath a flickering pattern of fire from the overskirt. The long, flowing sleeves of the dress also flutter with her movement, adding their own fiery inferno to the skirt.

A gold girdle is cinched around her slender waist, bringing a bit of brightness to the dark fabric. The darkness of the ensemble makes her skin look pale, and her rich brown hair only furthers the effect. The cold, distant light of the lamps flickers through the blue glass, casting shadows on her face and elongating it.

Her stylist rushes into the room. "Meri! There you are. Come on now. We've got to see if these lights work." She turns back towards the door and yanks Meri's fellow tribute from 13 into the room.

He's a chubby little kid with a sweet smile, but something animalistic lurks behind his innocent brown eyes. Meri has the feeling he isn't as nice as he seems. She doesn't think he'll hurt her as long as other people are around, but if they're not, she isn't sure what he'll do. I'll just have to be sure that doesn't happen.

He gives her a shy grin and steps further into the room. "Ready to be lit up?"

She looks away and shrugs.

Their stylists nod to each other and click a button on their tiny remotes.

The lights in the room go out and their costumes come alive with color. The lights bring out the colorful flames licking at the bottom of the gauzy layer covering the heavy fabric beneath.

Meri's hands fly up to cover her mouth as she stares at James's ensemble and her own. The lights from her sleeves illuminate her face, making it appear to glow with the embers of a growing fire. It's perfect for representing the bomb's explosion. Even her heels glow and flicker like a bed of hot coals.

"It's amazing, Wilhelmina," Meri whispers, hugging her stylist.

Wilhelmina laughs and gives the girl a light squeeze. "You look gorgeous, Meri. You're going to knock their feet out from under them. Everyone out there is going to love you. The guys will wish you'd marry them, and the girls will want to be you. Or at least, they'll wish they had the outfit."

Meri feels the familiar pain tugging at her. She pulls away from Wilhelmina and gives James a weak smile. She can't give in to this now. If she does, they'll all witness her breakdown, and her makeup will be destroyed. They spent too many hours on that, and it's too close to the parade to fix it if she starts crying.

But the ache remains, poignant and unbearable. It's only been a matter of weeks since he was killed. Only a matter of weeks since her one lifeline in the world was ripped from her by her furious guardian. The woman found out what Meri and Milan were planning and shot him for it. Meri had watched it, knowing she'd never be the same. He was going to take her away from her horrible situation. They were going to get married on her eighteenth. Instead, she spent the days before her eighteenth wishing desperately for a way to escape her life.

She'd found it when they Reaped her. She didn't care if she lived or died. Meri just wanted to show her guardian that she had finally won. If that meant surviving and winning, she'd do it. If it meant dying to protect her allies, she'd do that too.